she hoped the lesson would do him good. She did not like to tell
him so many
unpleasant things, for they would wound his pride.
"Well, Katy, what did my friend the mayor say?" asked Simon, as
he joined her on the sidewalk.
"I am afraid you will not call him your friend after this,"
replied Katy.
"Why? He had not the effrontery to refuse my
reasonable request?"
"The what? Please to use words that I can understand," said she,
for she was not a little disgusted with Simon's big words, now
she knew how much
mischief they had done him.
"Didn't he give you the paper?"
"He did not."
"I didn't think that of him. It was shabby."
"He said he did not know you. But I showed him your paper, in
which you had written down what you thought of yourself."
"Well, what did he say to that?" asked Simon,
eagerly.
"I thought he would split his fat sides laughing. He didn't seem
to believe a word of it."
"He didn't? I am surprised at that."
"He said you were a
conceited puppy."
"I always took the mayor for a
sensible fellow; I see I have been
mistaken."
"He didn't like it because you sent me to him upon such an
errand. He said you had imposed upon me."
"Go on, Katy; I may expect anything after what you have said,"
replied Simon, with all the
coolness and
indifference he could
command.
"He said he believed you were a
worthless fellow. Then he told me
to meet him at the store of the Messrs. Sands & Co., and he would
inquire about you."
"Then you went to the store?"
"We did; and when the mayor asked Mr. Sands about you, he said
you were honest, and did your work well, but----"
"Notice that remark particularly. I hope you called the mayor's
attention to it," interrupted Master Simon. "What else did he
say?"
"He said you were a
nuisance----"
"Observe how far his prejudices carried him. That man believed,
if I stayed in the store, that I should
supplant him and his
partner. You see how far he carried his spite."
"But he said all the good he could of you Simon," said Katy. "He
said you were honest and did your work well."
"Can a
nuisance be honest, and do work well? Hath not a Jew
eyes?" queried Mr. Simon, with
dramatic fervor.
"He didn't say anything about Jews."
"I was quoting Shakspeare, the
immortal bard of Avon. Katy, Sands
knew that I was securing the respect and
esteem of all his
customers; and he knew very well if I should step into a rival
establishment, I should take half his trade with me," continued
the injured Sneed.
"He said his customers were disgusted with you. You talked so big
and thought so much of yourself, he would not have you in the
store at any price. But I should think that Runn & Reed would be
glad to have you if you can carry so much trade with you."
"They cannot know till I have had a chance to show them what I
can do."
"I hope you will soon have such a chance."
"There is one thing about it; when I do, Sands & Co. will see the
mistake they have made. I think the ladies that visit their store
will miss a familiar face. They used to insist upon my waiting
upon them, though it was not exactly in the line of my duty to
sell goods. Often was I called away from the
bundle department to
attend them. No one seemed to suit them but me. Why, it was only
the day before I left that an
elegant,
aristocratic lady from
Beacon Street made me go clear home with her."
"Why, what for?"
"To carry her
bundle; but that was all a pretense."
"Did she invite you to tea, Master Simon?" asked Katy, who could
hardly help laughing in his face.
"No, but she kept me quarter of an hour at the door."
"What did she say?"
"She was
trying to make it out that I had brought the wrong
bundle, and so she opened it, in the entry; but it was only to
keep me there."
"You think she was smitten?" laughed Katy.
"I have an opinion," replied Simon, sagely. "There are a good
many fine ladies will miss my face."
Katy didn't think any fine lady could be much charmed with that
thin,
hatchet face; and she realized now that Master Simon was a
great heap of
vanity. She never thought before that he could be
so silly. She wanted to tell him that he was a great fool, for
she feared he would never find it out himself; but he was older
than she was, and she did not think it quite proper to do so.
"I must go now," said Katy. "If you don't find anything you like
better, you can sell candy, you know."
"Katy!" exclaimed Simon, sternly.
"I am poor and proud, Master Simon; I am too proud to be
dependent, or do anything mean and
wicked; but I am not too proud
to sell candy."
"I am," replied Simon, with dignity.
"Then yours is a foolish pride," replied Katy, with a smile to
soften the hard words; and she walked away toward her own house.
She felt
thankful that she had no such pride as Simon's; and she
had reason to be
thankful for when any person is too proud to do
the work which God has placed within his reach, he becomes a
pitiable object, and honest men will regard him with contempt.
Katy had to work very hard that evening, in making candy for her
assistants to sell, and it was nine o'clock before she was ready
to go to bed.
The next morning, all the girls who had engaged to come, appeared
with their trays, and were supplied with candy. Katy instructed
them very
modestly in the art of selling;
taking upon herself no
airs, and assuming no
superiority. Ann Grippen came with them,
and seemed to be very much pleased with her new occupation.
At noon they all returned, though only two of them had sold out
their two dozen sticks. Katy gave them further instructions in
regard to the best places to sell candy, and when they came home
at night, all but one had disposed of their stock. The
experiment,
therefore was regarded as a successful one. The next
day several other girls, who had heard of Katy's plan, came to
the house, and wanted to be engaged. The little merchant could
not supply them, but promised, if they would come the next day,
to furnish them with a stock. Even now, the quantity manufactured
required the services of Mrs. Colvin for three hours, and this
day she engaged her to come immediately after dinner.
I need not detail the manner in which Katy's trade kept
increasing. In a
fortnight she had more than a dozen girls
employed in selling candy. She was
actually making a wholesale
business of it, and no longer
traveled about the streets herself.
By the first of December, Mrs. Redburn had so far recovered her
health as to be able to take
charge of the manufacturing part of
the business, and Katy was permitted to go to school, though she
supplied the girls in the morning and at noon, and settled all
their accounts.
One day she received a call from Michael, Mrs. Gordon's man,
requesting her attendance in Temple Street. She obeyed the
summons; but when she met Mrs. Gordon and Grace, she was alarmed
to see how
coldly and reproachfully they looked upon her.
"I have heard a very bad story about you, Katy," said Mrs.
Gordon.
"About me?" gasped she.
"Yes; and I was very sorry to hear it."
"What was it, ma'am? I hope I haven't done anything to lose your
good will."
"I am afraid you have."
"I don't believe she did it, mother," said Grace. "She is too
good to do any such thing."
"What is it? Do tell me."
"I have been told that a little girl, who sells candy, has been
playing tricks upon passers-by in the streets; that she tells
lies and deceives them."
"I never did such a thing!" protested Katy, her cheeks covered
with the blush of indignation.
Mrs. Gordon explained the
deception, and spoke in very severe
terms of it. The trick had been played off on a friend of hers,
who had told of it the evening before.
"When was it, ma'am?" asked Katy.
"Yesterday forenoon."
"I was in school then. Besides, I haven't sold any candy in the
street for more than three weeks."
"I knew it wasn't she!" exclaimed Grace triumphantly.
"I was very
unwilling to believe it," added Mrs. Gordon; "but the
description seemed to point you out as the little deceiver."
"I wouldn't do such a thing, ma'am. If you inquire you will find
that I have been in school every day this week."
"I believe you, Katy. But can you tell me who it was?"
"I don't know, but I will find out;" and before she took her
leave she told the ladies how she conducted her business, which
amused them very much.
"Who played this trick?" said she to herself when she got into
the street. "If I can only find out, I will dis
charge her. She
will bring the business into contempt."
Of course no one would own it, and the only way she could find
out was by watching them. It must be stopped, for, besides being
too honest to allow such
deception, Katy saw that it would spoil
the trade.
When she got home, she found a letter which the penny-post had
brought, directed to her in large schoolboy hand.
"It is from Tommy," exclaimed she,
eagerly seizing the letter and
retiring to a corner to read it.
"You and Tommy are great friends," said her mother.
"Yes, mother; but don't you see it came all the way from
Liverpool?"
Mrs. Redburn sighed deeply at the mention of her native city, and
a thousand memories of the past flitted before her. Katy broke
the seal, and as this letter contained some very important
information, my young readers may look over her shoulder while
she reads it. It was as follows:--
Liverpool, Nov. 13, 1845.
"Dear Friend:--I take my pen in hand to let you know that I am
well, and I hope these few lines will find you enjoying the same
blessing. I arrived to Liverpool safe and sound, and when I got
home, I will tell you all about it. Just as we got in to the
dock, I kept thinking about what you told me. They won't let us
have any fires on board ship in the docks; so we all board
ashore. I asked the man where we stopped if he knew such a
merchant as Matthew Guthrie. He did not know him, and never heard
of him. Then I went round among the big merchants, and asked
about your
grandfather. I asked a good many before I found one
who knew him, and he said your
grandfather had been dead ten
years. I asked him where the family was. He said Mr. Guthrie had
only two daughters; that one of them had run away with her
father's clerk, and the other was married and gone to America. He
said her husband belonged to Baltimore. This was all he knew
about it, and all I could find out. We shall sail home in about
three weeks. I thought you would like to know; so I wrote this
letter to send by the
steamer. Drop in and see my mother, and
tell her I am well, and had a tiptop
voyage over. No more at
present from
"Your
affectionate friend,
"THOMAS HOWARD."